


High Risk, High Reward.

by Zelda148



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Gen, angel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelda148/pseuds/Zelda148
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was created for a fanwork exchange between the Sci-Fi and Fantasy Society and the Creative Writing Society at Cardiff university.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Risk, High Reward.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackWingBecci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWingBecci/gifts).



They’re driving again, these men I’ve been asked to observe, these ‘hunters’. They drive everywhere; it’s so slow, so cumbersome. I pity them not being able to get anywhere faster. I heard one of them, the elder brother, saying they were going to Michigan so I’m waiting for them there. I will have to find them when they arrive but it shouldn’t be hard, listening in to the chatter of the other angels should give me a more specific location, an area maybe, a town would be nice. They are well known in the angel community after all: hunters of great merit. After observing them I can see why, although they do seem to get themselves into more trouble than is strictly necessary.

They’re excellent hunters, even with a method that seems to be based on the concept of ‘high risk, high reward’.  They go in, all guns blazing, and just hope for the best; the best being that they somehow manage to kill something other than themselves. Preferably the creature or killer. It works for them, most of the time anyway.

That’s the problem, the problem the angels have, which they’ve charged me with, made my problem. My specific problem. They love to martyr themselves, these boys. Their father was the same, happy to die for family, eager almost. Getting themselves into situations where one of them is dead or dying or about to be is their speciality. Usually they manage to get themselves out of it but this time I’m not so sure.  Demon deals are more difficult, especially when it’s one life for another. I’ve seen them before; a woman trades her life for her dying husband, a man trades his life to have a child. A man trades his life for his brother’s. They are the worst type of deals, the hardest to get out of.

That deal is now my problem. A vessel, the vessel of an archangel, has four months to live. A short deal, a year long instead of ten.  So it’s my job to be judge, jury and executioner. I get to decide whether he lives or dies. Rather, I get to decide if he’s raised from hell or not. He’s going to die either way. If anything but resurrection happens then the brother, Sam, will die. It’s not a job I asked for, or wanted, but as a low-ranking soldier I get orders. And orders must be followed.

He seems… righteous. He does the right thing or tries to and his intentions are always true. But he’s reckless and sinful. He doesn’t seem to understand the concept of a moral compass past the very simplistic view that every life is sacred and worth saving. He has a… unique fighting technique but it’s effective, except for when he loses his weapon which happens more often than would be expected. His brother has the same technique, the same flaws and issues. They’ve very similar, very co-dependent.  

They’re in Ypsilanti. I’ve just been told. Ypsilanti, Michigan. They’ve managed to find a pair of pagan gods; they’ve fought one before successfully and they had a village of people against them as well. It will be interesting to see how they fair in this battle. I’ll track them down, observe and judge. I’ve been told not to intervene, what happens happens as they say.

Watching them fight is fascinating. They don’t fight the way that other hunters fight, they’re more haphazard, less organised. Like I said, all guns blazing. They seem to be tied up at the moment; it appears they are being used for a sacrifice. It’s difficult, watching silently, unable to help. I’ll pray for their survival and employ one of their favoured tactics. Hope for the best.

They’ve survived;  another one of God’s blessings, giving them more time together and a little more peace before the inevitable. They’re celebrating Christmas now, in a dreary hotel with eggnog, presents bought from a gas station and a tree decorated with air fresheners. It sounds miserable but they appear happy, content with the knowledge that they get to be together another day. 

I watch them and do not know how one brother will survive without the other. Their souls seem dark and corrupt but pure. Fuelled by love and anger their actions speak louder than the words they’re afraid to voice and although they hide their feelings from even themselves they don’t realise the strength a look has.

I cannot allow one brother to be left alone and I cannot allow the other to dwell with demons. 

I will Dean Winchester raise from perdition.

 


End file.
